February 16, 2023February 17, 2023 Mago Work1 Comment

(Art Exhibition 2) Immortal Diamond Exhibition: The Trickster Figure in Art and Alchemy by Frances Guerin

[Author’s Note: “Immortal Diamond Exhibition: The trickster figure in art and alchemy” will be hosted in Assembly Point: Assembly Point: Guild 152 Sturt St Melbourne during the period of 30th Read More …

January 17, 2023January 13, 2023 Mago WorkLeave a comment

(Art Exhibition 1) Immortal Diamond Exhibition: The Trickster Figure in Art and Alchemy by Frances Guerin

[Author’s Note: “Immortal Diamond Exhibition: The trickster figure inart and alchemy” will be hosted in Assembly Point: Assembly Point:Guild 152 Sturt St Melbourne during the period of 30th Jan-26th Feb2023.] Read More …

May 21, 2021May 11, 2021 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Poetry) Two Birds in a Tree by Frances Guerin

The chi of storm wind severs the trunk of a sixty -metre tall whitegum from its roots. The tree crashes to the ground, shaking the house like an earthquake. The Read More …

March 15, 2021March 13, 2021 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Poetry) Sanctuary by Frances Guerin

Corona came shouting STOP! You heard Greta Thunberg say, How dare you! Dear David Attenborough agreed then Jane Goodall said she was going to plant five million trees. Stop the Read More …

February 23, 2021February 23, 2021 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Poetry) The White Horse in the Oak Grove by Frances Guerin

The first moments of falling in love with the landscape of Daylesford began as I entered the land on Porcupine Ridge. In a grove of oak trees stood a white Read More …

February 5, 2020January 26, 2020 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art & Prose 2) Making the Great Mother by Frances Guerin

My interest in shamanism began in my teens influenced by the books of Carlos Castaneda, the artwork of the surrealist movement and the tarot. I had the opportunity to work Read More …

December 23, 2019January 26, 2020 Mago Work AdminLeave a comment

(Art & Prose 1) Making the Great Mother by Frances Guerin

Last week I awoke in fright from a dream of a thousand outstretched dark hands, and voices that cried out, “We are making the Great Mother” I wandered downstairs, made Read More …

March 6, 2014January 15, 2023 Mago Work Admin1 Comment

(Meet Mago Contributor) Frances Guerin

Frances Guerin holds a Ma Visual Arts, LaTrobe University Bendigo, Dip Ceramics, Federation University Ba Hons Philosophy/ Women’s Studies LaTrobe Melbourne Campus. Her work is influenced by Irish Contemporary Art, Read More …

Sandhill Cranes – a Nation of Women with Wings by Sara Wright

Sara wright in NM at the Bosque del Apache, photographer unknown Historically they used the Eastern flyway but were extirpated by hunting… a slow recovery is in process and the stately Sandhill cranes are once again returning to breed in Maine… so far only birders have been keeping track of their numbers but these majestic pre-historic birds have haunting cries that are often described as bugles, rattles, croaks and trumpets and can be heard 2 -3 miles away. They also utter sounds that combine a kind of brrring in unison. Their impending arrival next month calls up a chant I love… “There’s a river of birds in migration, a nation of women with wings.There’s a river of birds in migration, a nation of warriors with wings.” I remember the chill that crawled up my spine as those words seeped into my body all those years ago… I wept, not knowing why. I had exactly the same experience when I first heard the brrring cries of Sandhill cranes heading towards the river to roost in New Mexico seven years ago. Entranced, I stood there struck dumb – awed as tears slid down my face. I re -membered, felt something – but didn‘t know what it was… and whatever it was/is still haunts me when I hear that song or recall the cries of the Sandhills circling round in the sky to orient themselves to the right direction before heading to their northern home to breed. I am a woman in migration, a woman with wings…. Today when I listen to the cranes on You Tube, – I‘m impatient thinking about them and need to hear their eerie unearthly calls before they arrive – I am keenly aware that we have lost three billion birds. And even in the fields I visit to watch Sandhills feeding on old grain and corn I also see the signs: POISON STAY OUT. This vulnerable population is ingesting pesticides that are sprayed on the fields – not just here but everywhere. Not one birder I know who visits these fields to watch the cranes ever mentions those signs. The cranes are also actively hunted in the fall and spring along the Eastern (Tennessee and Kentucky) and Central Flyways (fourteen more states situated on or near the central highway – the route most heavily traveled). In Maine there is not enough evidence to be certain about just how the Sandhills get here, but my guess is that they use the Eastern Flyway because they remember the route from long ago when they once migrated to Maine in healthy numbers. Some observers in Maine and other New England states believe they are seeing the same flock (s) migrating north and south. These birds, like so many species, were extirpated by hunters… it’s taken a couple of centuries for them to begin a cautious return. That we have Sandhills nesting so close to my home is a source of poignancy and pure joy. I am a woman who sees… Women and Birds belong together: we are the hunted ones, dismissed despised, invisible, murdered. Like birds. Who will notice when we are gone? I am only too aware of how many women we have lost to violence, rape, and murder – the reality that patriarchy perpetuates. Men must have their guns. Women must remain silent or be silenced … We could rise up as ‘a nation of women’ to stop the carnage but as things stand now most women can’t even be civil to one another across the isles. Our resistance to quelling the bird and animal hunting massacre speaks to our tacit acceptance of the superiority of man, the rightness of his love of guns and lust, our acceptance of the worst objectification women have ever been subjected to, and the need to allow the killing machine to continue. Just like the birds we are under attack by the NRA. Is our only viable option flight? What I have learned from the various women’s movements is that taking to the streets is not enough, standing up for our beliefs is not enough. Truth telling is not enough. Endurance is not enough. Patriarchy isn’t crumbling – Yet. I’d like to think it might be in its death throes because this destructive system is now turning on itself – like a dragon swallowing its own tail. Nature is also intervening to redress hubris and imbalance, graphically demonstrating to humans how stupid we have become as a species. As we poison the fields the Sandhills feed in, we poison ourselves. The elements of wind and water make certain that no home grown food or field will be spared. I am a woman in flight. I dream of joining the cranes, who in their most ancient wisdom understand that no species survives without genuine community. Not pockets of like-minded folks, but the kind of community that embraces all differences, in deference to the whole. Our culture praises human endeavors and independence while I look to cranes who reveal and reflect the interdependence that all of us need to survive. Leave until it’s safe to return? I‘m learning how to listen…. During the month of March I don my feathery cape, becoming a bird woman who is obsessed by bird migration. Even with masses of snow covering the ground my beloveds are starting to migrate to their summer homes and breeding grounds. Each morning I consult Cornell’s bird cast to find out which birds flew over my county last night. At First Light, long before dawn I am outdoors standing in the snow recording a new migrant call, a cardinal song, a courting male dove, turkey twittering, gobbling, chickadee convocations – embracing a chorus of avian concertos. I watch the pair of ravens fly through a deep blue crack between twilight and dawn, silent, perhaps praying for all. Messengers in flight. I scatter the first round of seed. Once inside I place some on my windowsill so that the chickadees and I are …
(Essay) Goddess as Love: From Experience To Thealogy by Carol P. Christ

If theology is rooted in experience, how do we move from experience to theology? In my life there have been a number of key moments of “revelation” that have shaped my thealogy. One of these was the moment of my mother’s death. In 1991 my mother was diagnosed with cancer. While she was being treated, I realized that I had never loved anyone as much as I loved her. When I wrote that to her, she responded that “this was the nicest letter” she “had ever received” in her life and she invited me to come home to be with her and my Dad. My mother died only a few weeks after I arrived, in her own bed as she wished. She was on an oxygen machine, and I heard her call out in the dark of early morning. When my Dad got to the room, he tried to turn up the oxygen, but it didn’t help. Then he called the doctor who reminded him that my mother did not want to go to the hospital under any circumstances. My Dad then sat by my mother’s bed and held her hand. As my mother died, I felt that the room was” filled with love.” I sensed that my mother was “going to love.” Before that moment, I had often felt that I was not loved enough. These feelings intensified whenever my love affairs broke up. I would feel helpless and abandoned and could think only that “no one loves me, no one will ever love me, I might as well die.” Although my life continues to have its ups and downs, and I still have not found my “true love,” from the moment when the room filled with love as my mother died to this, I have never doubted I am loved. Prior to my mother’s death I was also unsure of who or what I thought the Goddess is. I was sure that God did not “act in history,” a view I had adopted from Gerhard Von Rad’s biblical theology while in college and abandoned while writing my dissertation on the holocaust. I had grown up with the notion that God is love, and I had also experienced the presence of God in nature, a view largely denied by my theology professors and theologians of the twentieth century. I turned to the Goddess because she is a woman like myself and also because she represented the life-force in nature and its seasons and cycles. But I was not sure if Goddess is a personal presence who loves and understands or the life force itself. Because of this uncertainty, I had been unable to complete my Goddess thealogy. After my mother died, I came to understand Goddess as “the intelligent embodied love that is the ground of all being.” The experience I had as my mother died did not come with any words except “filled with love” and “going to love.” I did not feel Goddess loves me or God loves me or that my mother was loved by Goddess or God. I also did not feel that my mother was entering into eternal life. I simply felt the palpable presence of love in the room as she died. Reflecting on this experience, I came to the conclusion that Goddess is love. This is not primarily an intellectual interpretation of my experience of my mother’s death, though it is that as well. Most importantly, it is a feeling that permeates my daily life which was made possible by the experience I had when my mother died. I feel the Goddess as a presence who understands and loves me and the whole world. I feel that love is everywhere and that, as Alice Walker’s Shug told Celie, everything wants to be loved. I recognize that the power I call Goddess may also be called God. However, the word God is too bound up with images of war, violence, and domination for me to feel comfortable using it in my prayers and meditations. I acknowledge that I have had troubled relationships with my father and fathers, while in contrast my relationships with my mother and grandmothers were full of love. This makes it easy for me to imagine the loving arms of Goddess embracing the world. This is an excerpt of a draft of a book I am writing with Judith Plaskow, tentatively titled Goddess and God After Feminism: Body, Nature, and Power. Carol P. Christ, a founding mother in the study of women and religion, feminist theology, women’s spirituality, and the Goddess movement, has been active in peace and justice movements all of her adult life. She teaches online courses in the Women’s Spirituality program at CIIS. Her books include She Who Changes and Rebirth of the Goddess and the widely used anthologies Womanspirit Rising and Weaving the Visions. One of her great joys is leading Goddess Pilgrimages to Crete through Ariadne Institute. (This was first published in: http://feminismandreligion.com/2012/09/24/goddess-as-love-from-experience-to-thealogy-by-carol-p-christ/)
(Poem) Goodbye Vermont by Francesca Tronetti

Omar Rodriguez organizes bodies in the Gerard J. Neufeld funeral home in Elmhurst on April 22, 2020. New York Magazine. 610,000 dead in early August as county fair season starts While we argue over mask mandates in our schools As we fill restaurants and walk into stores faces uncovered While we try to squeeze in a few last weeks of fun in the sun 618,000 dead on August 11 while the Delta variant sweeps through As parents start moving their children into college dorms Stores advertise sales, trying to get people to buy out the stock And now we are hearing about the Lambda variant making a surge School boards vote on mask mandates in community meetings Which are disrupted by shouts and threats, ‘we know who you are’ People wave around copies of the Constitution, The Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence, the Federalist Papers, and the Bible. 624,000 dead on August 18, one thousand more that live in Vermont Another state has fallen to Covid-19, the Pandemic, the life changer American lives have been taken, American work may never be the same But the trauma does not encourage unity and safety, only anger. A hospital in Brevard County Florida sends out an SOS desperate for help Calling in refrigerated trucks which can hold up to 30 bodies each Doctors volunteer to run lab reports back and forth or sit with patients It still is not enough to help an overwhelmed system or nurses in the end. 2021 is surpassing 2020, the Delta variant is more easily communicable But 99% of those who are infected were never vaccinated, it wasn’t real Even now, knowing those who have died, or who have lasting effects of the virus They refuse to get vaccinated, because it’s a hoax, and they still have questions. It will be another year of working from home and online learning Another year of people being unable to pay their rent as the bills pile up But policies which could help, like loan forgiveness, or continued unemployment Are pushed to the side, ridiculed, and dismissed, those in power aren’t hurting. Politicians are entrenched, the Big Lie cannot be countered lest the profit fall So cultists continue to take the microphone, spouting buzzwords and rhetoric Plandemic, it’s all about the children, you will be tried for treason, Trump won I shake my head, how can you be so crazy, how do you not know someone who died? But they do know someone who died, they just don’t care anymore It’s not about taking care of each other, of getting through this nightmare together The madness has set in, the battle lines drawn, and no man’s land is outside the door The next fight will be over boosters, added to the passport I don’t want to write these poems anymore, not for another state They are no longer an outpouring of sadness, a reminder of the dead Instead, now they are my anger and my disbelief at what has happened My country has fractured, a cult has taken the minds of my neighbors. But we cannot deprogram them nor free them from its grasp Because to deprogram them we must stop the leader’s messages We must give them truth, hard facts, show them they have been hurt How can we do that when they have been told they cannot trust truth? We have lost two states worth of people, but they are small states Barely populated, only ranchers and hardy folk who love the elements The next Washington DC, a major metropolis, could fall by Christmas Would that be enough to shake the people out of the fog I wonder. Goodbye Vermont, with your college towns and university campuses No more Vermont cheddar, maple syrup, or Ben and Jerry’s ice cream If only that were true, if only this were confined by the borders of a state Would people care then, if they saw how many we’d lost? A state’s worth? (Meet Mago Contributor) Francesca Tronetti https://www.magoism.net/2018/11/meet-mago-contributor-rev-francesca-tronetti-ph-d/
(Poem) A Small Woman by Phibby Venable

my eyes stray from the patient I am with to the one in a chair across the hall short, puffy, silent – alone, the nurse whispers to a nurse nearby a small woman with tousled steel colored curls waiting for open heart surgery and blinking occasionally at the wall I can tell you she is too small, too alone, too frightened in her chair, a monotone of being alone and the next day too – it’s the same sitting in her chair by the door now holding a heart pillow, being told to press, cough and press, and she does so, she stays alive – maybe she wonders why – but still, so obedient to the requests of the nurse her eyes living in distant fields that I long to fill with gentle family and wildflowers
(Book Review) LUPA and LAMB by Susan Hawthorne, reviewed by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This is such an excellent book for those of us who desire Her. It is a wonderful reframing and restoration of characters and events from the archives of consciousness: not all of whom may be fully known to the reader personally, but all are introduced very well, recalled and invited to mind with notes in the back of the book and at the side of pages. My heart opened to this book of poems with the very beginning quote from Monique Wittig – one that I have loved and used often myself: a call to remember another time and place when we “bathed bare-bellied”, full of laughter, or, “failing that, invent.” This book by Susan Hawthorne fulfills this promise: it does all of that – remembers, brings forth smiles and laughter, and invents. It is an extraordinary weaving, a poetic work in the tradition of Marija Gimbutas’s archaeomythology.
(Book Review) Blood & Honey Icons: Biosemiotics & Bioculinary reviewed by Donna Snyder

A review of Blood & Honey Icons: Biosemiotics & Bioculinary by Danica Anderson I bought this book to support work with survivors of the Balkan conflicts of the late 20th Century. For my money I got a multifaceted lesson on healing practices useful for victims of violence anywhere, including the El Paso/Juárez region, where I live. The horrors of femicide, narco wars, and military violence in Juárez are known throughout the world. The author, Danica Anderson, is a forensic psychotherapist and a fellow with the American Academy of Experts in Traumatic Stress. Anderson has worked in Bosnia since March 1999, as well as in Africa for the International Criminal Court, India with tsunami survivors, Sri Lanka with civil war survivors, Haiti with victims of terror, and the U.S.A with members of the military. Anderson’s experience as the child of immigrants mirrors the life of many here, with families still surrounded by the culture of the country left behind. Her father, a rural man, and her mother, who had been interred in a World War II prison camp, immigrated to the United States as refugees. Although born here, Anderson did not learn English until second grade, and was then called upon to interpret for her elders. She thus shared in the traumas of refugees in the South Slavic community in Chicago. Ethnic traditions were also inculcated into her heart, particularly kolo circle dances and the songs previously sung by women working the fields and at the hearth.
The Gifts of the Winter Solstice Goddesses by Carolyn Lee Boyd

Holde, the good protectress, By Friedrich Wilhelm Heine (1845-1921) – Wägner, Wilhelm. 1882. Nordisch-germanische Götter und Helden. Otto Spamer, Leipzig & Berlin. Page 117., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5254373 In the midnight hour of the darkest night, they ride through the magic forest, bells jingling, alone or leading a wild entourage, giving gifts and sometimes punishments. Holle, Frau Gode, Perchta, La Befana, and Lady Hera have made their raucous spirit rides between Winter Solstice and Epiphany for centuries or even millennia. What, good or bad, will they bestow upon us this year? On the Winter Solstice, Patricia Monaghan says, Holle (also known as Holda and other names) “traveled the world in her wagon” and “checked the quality of each woman’s (spinning) work and offered rewards or punishments” (288). Who was She? Max Dashu reminds us that Holle was an Earth goddess and “the ‘Mother of All Life’ and ‘The Great Healer’ (256-257). However, Holle was also originally the Death Goddess and “she controls …the regeneration of nature…For Holle as the Mother of the Dead, bread was baked at Christmas time called Hollenzopf, meaning “Holle’s bread” (243), according to Marija Gimbutas. Meanwhile, Frau Gode, another form of Holle, rode in a wagon drawn by dogs, sending one into any house with an open door to bark for a year. “The next year, the beleaguered residents could relieve themselves of the pet by firmly closing the door as Frau Gode rode by” (288), according to Monaghan. Frau Gode, Unknown author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons Holle’s sister Perchta also rode and punished spinners who wasted wool, “stuffing the remnants” into the spinner’s torn-open stomach. January 6 was “Perchta’s Day” when “everyone ate pancakes of meal and milk in her honor” and “left bits for Perchta” (290-291), Monaghan wrote. More benevolently, Italy’s La Befana is an old woman who rides her broomstick on the night of January 5th, the eve of Epiphany, giving gifts to good children and “coal, garlic, and turnips” to those who were bad, according to Lydia Ruyle. Finally, Dashu tells us that Rhinelanders “into the early 1400s” believed that Lady Hera (not the Greek goddess of the same name) “flew through the air between Christmas and Epiphany” with bells and gave “an abundance” of gifts (252). These goddesses are sage guides as we traverse this liminal Solstice when the sun stands still; a season when, to our ancestors who revered or placated them, death from cold or starvation as well as the promise of spring was always present. Who are they and what gifts of guidance do they bring us now when dire environmental and other crises as well as radiant opportunities for individual and global healing are on the horizon? These goddesses are old, fierce, insightful, and commanding. Some were associated with witches. They unapologetically flex their might. We grow their kind of sagacity and self-confidence only through decades of navigating traumas and victory but rarely do we see role models like this for our own old age. Their gift is to show us how to not only revere them, but be them when we need to do so. The goddesses are intensely passionate about what they do and stand for, whether it is respect for doing daily work well, the moral education of children, or generosity as a way of life. These aspects of every day life are to be honored. Their gift is to remind us that the effects of our choices of who to be, what to value, and how to live every day will reverberate throughout time as we influence those of the next generation and offer them our own gifts. The goddesses are not judgmental, not delighting in finding fault, but are, instead, truthful. They reward or punish both women and children based on what has been done well or not without excuses or favor. This gift is the understanding that insight into the reality of our actions is necessary for our own growth and effectiveness and to best decide our next course wisely, personally and collectively. The nearness of the goddesses during this season forces us to realize that the human and spirit worlds are just a breath away from one another, something our ancestors understood as a fact of every day life. This gift is a deeper understanding that we can be grounded in our everyday world while being open to the influence of these and other goddesses on ourselves and our world. At the same time, we can heed Frau Goude’s warning about carelessly leaving the door between our realms open when it is time for the gateway between them to close. Finally, remember that these goddesses had their origin in the Death Goddess and are associated through spinning to fate. They offer us the essential truth that letting go and endings are necessary for life to regenerate. In addition, the goddesses remind us that this regeneration happens through the miracle of gifts, whether that is the Earth renewing Herself each spring so that living beings can thrive, or of the compassion and love of humanity these goddesses show by traveling through our world each year bestowing abundance, or our own acts on behalf of others that create hope for the future. These gifts are so much more meaningful than the toys in Santa’s pack, given for conforming to society’s norms of “goodness.” The true gift of these goddesses is our and our world’s wildness and wholeness: our respect for our fierce selves and life experience, our participation in life with untamed and undomesticated passion, our ability to see ourselves and our actions truthfully and accept either congratulations or consequences, and our giving of our own spiritual and creative largesse. This Solstice, or, for those in the South, at the next Winter Solstice, let’s join the wild ride with our sisters across the Earth in our own time, giving our own wisdom and abundance to ourselves, each other, and our planet. Sources: Dashu, Max. Witches and Pagans: Women in European Folk …
(Bell Essay 1) Ancient Korean Bells and Magoism by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

Part I The bell as both a percussion instrument and an idiophone is one of the most pacific, sublime, and ingenious human inventions. It appears cross-culturally from the remote past. Its artistic and ritualistic aspects are fairly well recognized by many. However, many overlook that the bell is a female icon with functionality. Put differently, the bell symbolizes the Goddess, the female who has the purpose. This essay, to be written in parts hereafter, will examine the symbology of ancient Korean bells and explore its implications with regard to Magoist history, cosmogony, and soteriology. At the outset, I posit that ancient Korean bells cast in the form of a woman’s body are there to awaken humanity to the arcane reality of the Female, that is Mago. In East Asia, bell connotes two distinct types, the open ended and the enclosed. In Korean, the open ended bell is called jong (鐘, Chinese zhong), whereas the enclosed one is called bang-ul or ryeong (鈴, Chinese ling). Jong and bang-ul are also distinguished by size. While the former tends to be larger, the latter are commonly used by a shaman or diviner to hold and shake (a group of bang-uls) to invoke the spirit. However, these differences are not unbridgeable. Some bang-uls are open-ended, like jong. By definition, jong is a bell made of metal not stone. (The character jong 鐘 has the radical (basic element) of geum 金, metal or gold. The stone bell is called gyeong.) When jong is used in music, in particular as a musical instrument consisting of a set of bronze bells, it is called pyeon-jong (編鍾, Chinese bianzhong). Perhaps the invention of pyeon-jong follows pyeon-gyeong (編磬, Chinese bianqing), a stone musical instrument consisting of a set of L-shaped stone chimes. Discussing the differences between the two instruments goes beyond the purpose of this essay. Suffice it to say that jong was likely a metallic replica of gyeong presumably first introduced in the Bronze Age. (See the images below for comparison.) My primary focus in this essay is on jong, in particular the Korean bells cast in the 8th century CE and thereafter. The beauty and significance of ancient Korean bells shed a new light on ancient Korea to be re-dis-covered in relation to Magoism. Both scholars and the public appear to be unaware that the ancient bells of Korea symbolize the female principle as well as woman’s body. It is my hope that this essay allows the ancient bells of Korea to reverberate through time and call people to return to the female origin. Ancient Greek Bells as Woman’s Body A variety of jong from the ancient world appears across cultures. The most explicitly rendered bells which mirror the female form are the terracotta bell figurines of Greece (Thebes) dated circa the 8th century BCE. Both are housed in the Louvre Museum, Paris. Protruded breasts are placed on the upper part of the bell. The body of the bell is sculpted to resemble the skirt that she is wearing. Two arms annexed from her shoulders appear to be aesthetic rather than functional. The elongated neck is made as a handle to be held. Her neck is adorned with elaborate necklaces. Geometrical designs and swastikas are compelling in both figurines — rife with arcane meanings. The legs are made as mallets. Imagine, then, where the sound comes from upon being shaken! It is her belly, more precisely the vulva from which the sound originates. In the first, above, icon of the Greek bell, women are drawn on the bell’s body in a simplified and exaggerated manner. They are connected with each other hand in hand forming a circle, perhaps dancing a circle dance. As a whole, the bell depicts a dancing woman with her arms raised, standing on her toes. The women painting befits the spirited nature of the bell. In the second, above, icon of the Greek bell, 39.5 cm in height, her breasts are highlighted, encircled by the drawing of two circles. Thus, they appear to be more nipples than breasts. Her arms are laid downward as if pointing to the birds standing below on each side. Each bird is holding an elongated earthworm-like swirling thing at the tip of its beak. Geometric designs in the center of her body are catchily inviting to interpretations. The symmetrical balance is heightened. She appears to stand firmly or be ready to walk. As shown below, one leg when placed out to the side conveys to its viewer that the legs are mallets and at once creates a look that she is real, in motion. In my documentation, the Greek bell idols and ancient Korean bells are the only two groups that are explicitly made in the shape of a woman’s body. Yet, as to be shown shortly, these Greek bell idols, far smaller in size, date about a thousand years earlier than the ancient Korean bells. Furthermore, there is a vast geographical distance between the two bell icons. In comparing them, however, I have no intention to assume that the ancient Greek bell figurines are the earliest of their kind. (It is difficult to discuss the origin of bell as a woman’s body due to the nature of the task, too complex and daunting. It suffices to say that the Chinese bells, dated older than the Thebes bell figurines, have relevance to ancient Korean bells, a point to be discussed at a later part.) Ancient worlds appear not too heterogeneous to say the least, as moderns tend to think. Sillan Bells Let me begin with introducing some ancient Korean bells from the Silla period (57 BCE-935 CE) and their major features that are also uniquely ancient Korean (read Magoist). They sound beautifully and deeply when struck. Sounding waves are calculated in the structure of the bell upon being cast. It is known that there are eleven jongs extant from the United Silla period. Only five of them are currently located in Korea, whereas the rest are in Japan. These bells are known as beomjong, a term referring to a bell in Buddhist temples used for Buddhist …
(Essay 1) Sacred Crete: Mystery Rites and the Sacred Bull’s Transformation in the Post-Bronze Age Collapse by Jen Taylor

Dolphin Fresco / Palace of Knossos (Crete, 1700-1450 BCE) “I come from Crete over the sea’s wide back…” -Demeter / Homeric Hymn to Demeter Dynastic-era Egyptian Pharaohs hired the artists of ancient Crete to paint murals in their sacred temples. For those familiar, the art of High Bronze Age Minoan culture is stunning, considered some of “the most inspired ” of the long-gone Neolithic era, depicting “the enchantment of a fairy world.”1 One might recall the Dolphin Fresco or the palace ruins of Knossos. The unparalleled pottery techniques of the Minoans were lost at the end of the Bronze Age with the brutal Mycenaean takeover, mid-15th century BCE. Minoan pottery techniques are difficult to replicate to this day. It is long acknowledged that Roman architecture is a knock-off of Greek building works, but the Greeks are a knock-off of a knock-off: they borrowed from the Mycenaean imitation of Minoan architecture. Both Mycenaean and then Greek artisans fail to achieve Minoan feats and splendor. Some might argue with me on this, but what cannot be refuted is that Minoan archeological remains destroy the narrative that Western civilization began with the Greeks. I have never been to this fabled island of enchanted ruins, nestled in the blue waters of the Mediterranean. As Demeter desired to return, I wish to go, though I fear the longing it will stir. Can I face the testimony of the ruins? So much is lost and it requires more than a physical journey to a geographical location to recover ancient Crete. I was first alerted to this Archeo-Mythological trail as an undergrad in 1993, studying the Pre-Socratics, Homer, and Greek Tragedy. What was this Golden Age that Hesiod referred to at the onset of the Iron Age in 8th century BCE? In the beginning, the immortals who have their homes on Olympos created the golden generation of mortal people… They lived as if they were gods, their hearts free from sorrow. – Hesiod / Works and Days, lines 108-114 Around the same time, a beloved philosophy professor (Mitch Miller) pressed us in class with a tantalizing question. He asked if we had ever heard of the Eleusinian Mystery Rites. Cicero wrote of them, “We have been given a reason not only to live in joy, but also to die with better hope.”2 None of us had heard of these “Mystery Rites,” and what Professor Miller said next stunned me. He said that we should be angry about it. Then he looked around the room and stayed silent for a while. No one said a word. Something important had been lost and the writings of ancient Greece contained fragments testifying to that loss, emerging like pebbles in the moonlight now. I will always be grateful to Professor Miller for this seminal moment because the scatterings of pre-classical era-derived fragments also provide clues towards the Mystery Rites’ recovery. I have spent a lifetime searching since, and the two scholars I trust most in cleansing patriarchal overlay when looking at the origination point of the Eleusinian Mystery Rites in Bronze Age Crete are Riane Eisler and Professor Mara Keller. Each has given a lot of attention to ancient Crete in their long careers. Eisler devotes a chapter to the subject (Crete: The Essential Difference) in her paradigm-shifting book, The Chalice and the Blade. What many refer to anachronistically as Minoan, Keller has renamed Damatrian Crete in her essays and a forthcoming book.3 Minoan is the name given by Sir Arthur Evans in the first archeological excavations of the ancient civilization in the early 1900’s. The term Minoan derives from King Minos, a mythological king of Mycenaean Crete, the Iron Age war-faring, pre-Greek tribes, who destroyed and supplanted High Bronze Age, Damatrian Crete. A rose may be a rose by any other name, but not here. The domination system culture of the Mycenaeans worshipped the power of the blade, the power to take life. Damatrian Crete, what Eisler calls a partnership paradigm, worshipped the opposite, conceiving of the power to give life as sacred. The power of the womb, symbolized by a chalice, understands the rebirth that follows, and trumps death. Archeologist Nicholas Platon noted in his 1966 examinations of the ancient island, “the fear of death is almost obliterated by the ubiquitous joy of living.”4 From the first excavations in the early 1900’s, scholars agree on this point. In 1987, Keller observes that, “Their main purpose was to bring an experience of love to the most important life passages: birth, sexuality and death/rebirth.”5 The more I uncover, the more Hesiod’s lament for the lost age makes sense and matches my own: “And I wish that I were not any part of the fifth generation of men, but had died before it came, or been born afterward. For here now is the age of iron. Never by daytime will there be an end to hard work and pain…” – Hesiod, Works and Days, lines 169-174 This (meta)journey of recovery is compounded by our continued failure to decipher Damatrian Crete’s script, referred to unimaginatively as Linear A. Happily, we are alive in a time when disciplines like archeology and mythology have come together to shed light on a formerly unknowable and lost way of life. How do we live so that we are not afraid to die? How did we lose that and how to do we get it back? The Festival of the Bull and The Eleusinian Mystery Rites of Demeter offer tantalizing insights here. We will examine each separately in Parts II and III of this series, considering them together in the context of the post-Bronze Age collapse in Part IV. (Next month / Part II: The Festival of the Bull…) Demeter & Grain / Greek Bas-Relief, 700 BCE Endnotes 1 Riane Eisler, The Chalice and The Blade: Our History, Our Future (New York: HarperCollins, 1987), 32. 2 “Neque solum cum laetitia vivendi rationem accepimus sed etiam cum spe meliore moriendi.” Cicero, …

(Special Post Isis 3) Why the Color of Isis Matters by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s note: The discussion took place in Mago Circle during the month of July, 2013. Our heartfelt thanks go to the members who participated in this discussion with openness and courage.] Part 3 Isis, Arab Women Revolution, and Black Goddesses Naa Ayele Kumari Going back to the original topic of the post…. Some quotes ” Women are in half the society… How come there are only 7 in the Assembly… and they are all Islamist! ” I can’t beat up my wife and almost kill her and call it discipline… this is not discipline… this is abuse and insanity” http://youtu.be/y4umifTLSII 12-Year Old Explains Egyptian Revolution in Under 3 Minutes www.youtube.com Max Dashu It is tremendously heartening to see these insights being expressed, and spread. The Salafis have made such inroads, and now the pushback is happening. Harita Meenee Dear Naa Ayele Kumari, thank you actually reading my post and commenting something relevant to it. It’s refreshing when someone does hear what we have to say instead of projecting their own notions. Building a solidarity movement with those who are oppressed but fighting is very important during these critical times! Harita Meenee See also: https://www.facebook.co/intifadat.almar2a?fref=ts The uprising of women in the Arab world انتفاضة المرأة في العالم العربي حرية الفكر ، حرية التعبير ، حرية الاعتقاد ، حرية التنقل ، حرية الجسد ، حرية اللب…See More Glenys Livingstone … as you say Max …” way too much of it going on” – amongst people who should know better (I would have thought): “Dark goddess as terrifying, challenging, white goddess as benign; “black magic” as harmful; I see way, way too much of this going on out there.” And related to that in my mind is all the “love and light” business that is so common: the Ground of Being is Dark … it seems to me that mystics have always understood the quintessential darkness of Love/Deity. Max Dashu Sure. I would just like to add that the critique raised here addressed issues much broader than the substance of the article, which made some good points. But once the choice of graphics flagged the issue of representation, people had much more to say about that old yet still very fresh wound which is constantly reopened by the cultural habit of whitening Egypt, or interpreting Africa through a eurocentric lens. It is not on any one person to carry the weight of that; we all have a responsibility to address the issues, but especially those of us of European heritage need to familiarize ourselves with how this plays out over and over. Just as men have a responsibility to speak up in support of women when patriarchal assumptions are on board. We all can learn something from each other, along all the various axes of domination, and overthrow them in coalition. Naa Ayele Kumari I have often considered where the roots of this psychology comes from. It is dualistic thinking that causes us to compare and contrast, then sum up judgement of good or bad and place a value on each. It extends into competition and justification for war. It also doesn’t escape me that often this came with certain civilizations who systematically destroyed others. It didn’t just happen with blacks in Africa… but blacks in Asia and the Indus Valley as well. With the Aryan invasions of India, came the eventual introduction to lighter divinities and more emphasis on male divinities. Southern Indians, Sri Lankans are very dark… even more so than many African Blacks. The caste systems implemented by the Aryan invaders did the same thing to them casting them as “untouchables”. With that came the marginalization of their black female divinities such as Kali. Kali actually has 10-16 forms… from compassionate mother, the fountain of wisdom, to she of great beauty but she is minimized as just destructive and terrifying… especially as Brhaman, Vishnuu, and Shiva grow in popularity. One of Kali’s statues has her black self standing on top of Shiva because she conquered him. Later there is a discussion in on of the Hindu text explaining Kali (as Parvati) after being subdued by Shiva she becomes lighter. Further they have stories about him rejecting her and calling her blackie which made her do austerities to rid herself of her black skin. Naa Ayele Kumari It should not be overlooked that in the Story of Alice in Wonderland… a story intended to keep Goddess elements for future generations, has the Elder sister ( the Queen of Hearts) portrayed as man, ego, and power driven who cuts off heads and has a fierce dragon…a clear reference to Kali. The White goddess as the younger sister is her opponent… and her mission is to usurp the throne of the Queen of Hearts even though she was the rightful heir as the oldest … or primordial. Stories like these also reinforce the stereotypes and negative iconography. Max Dashu Yes, it is pervasive in many cultures of domination. Demons are portrayed as black not only in Europe, which we know well, but also in China and in a lot of Buddhist iconography. In modern India, the sweet goddesses are shown as pink, the wrathful as black; and Krishna (name means “dark”) is turned powder blue. (Another of his titles, s’yam, also meaning dark, is the word translated as “green” in Green Tara.) The countercurrents (Black Mazu, loving Kali – esp in Bengal and south India, Black Madonna) bubbled up from the common people, who knew and longed for something other than the dominant racialized hierarchy. Naa Ayele Kumari I am just discovering Mazu ( Matzu/LuShui) in China today! Never knew about her. This discussion has led me to look deeper for black goddesses in Asia. Max Dashu Taoist spiritual tradition often refers to Xüan Nü, which can be translated in several ways. You’ll usually see it rendered as “the Mysterious Female,” a phrase that occurs in the Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching), and this is a valid translation; but what is less emphasized is that it also means “the Dark Woman.” In […]
(Special Post 1) "The Oldest Civilization" and its Agendas by Mago Circle Members

[Editor’s Note: The following discussion took place in response to an article listed blow by the members of The Mago Cirlce, Facebook group of Goddessians/Magoists from May 6 to May 10, 2016. Readers are recommended to read the original article linked below that has invoked the converation.] “The Danube Civilization: Oldest in the World” in The Ancient Ones upon the ruins of our ancestors, published April 3, 2016.
(Special Post Mother Teresa 3) A Role Model for Women? by Mago Circle Members

Part III: The Debate, What Went Right/Wrong with Mother Teresa? [Editorial Note: The following is an edited version of the discussion that took place spontaneously on Mago Circle from March 1, 2013 for about two weeks. It was an extensive, heated, yet reflective discussion, now broken into four parts to fit the format of the blog. We thank each and all of the participants for your openness, generosity, and courage to stand up for what you believe and think! Some are marked as anonymous. As someone stated, something may have been “written in the heat of the moment” and some might like to change it at a later time. So we inform our readers that nothing is written in stone. As a matter of fact, the discussion is ongoing, now with Magoism Blog readers. Please comment and respond as you wish.] [C]: Unfortunately, Mother Theresa is not understood here in some of these comments: To be in any way critical of Mother Theresa using what was the state of the world in her time & the poor & dying as tools of compassion, even more so when left to die visibly barely cared for, as a teaching method must not be looked at as unfeeling on her part as it was her greatest sorrow to use them so horribly as means to an end, but they were what she had at hand. Was never her intention to use any money to save them, would negate their very suffering purpose as well. She did not believe we all had learned the lesson yet in her time so she had to pretend to be solving the problem while continuing the problem. You see, the money was a byproduct of no importance to her, used just to get the peoples’ attention by using what they valued, let the Church have it for other things for it had served it’s purpose by bringing her sought after awareness of the poor & dying into view. In pretending to like & accept attention to herself, honors, & even challenges to these choices, all for one purpose to fool, to get the poor & dying attention, is why she was so distressed near the end by the means she had to use to reach that end! And perhaps her sheer loss of hope at having to stoop to such measures which reflects on the sad state of the rest of us. Wondering here where the money went doesn’t understand anything of what she was trying to do. [C]: Thank You Naa Ayele Kumari for plowing through my thoughts enough to ‘like’ even! Could I be understood that Mother Theresa’s intentions were ‘higher’ than just taking care of the poor & dying in institutions, but to have the people understand there should be ‘feelings’ for them so they would never ever even have to be cared for in such ‘style’? She sacrificed these many nonpeaceful deaths to display, to show, to the whole world the direction it was heading, for the saving of the future multitudes of suffering & deaths if no one understood & cared soon. She dreamed these future lives would be right & good & their deaths would be the same attended by loved ones of their own, no need for group interference. She did not wish to just contain such tragedy, but to eliminate it from the whole earth forever. In the smaller scale view of some today the institutions are a necessary step, however Mother Theresa thought this a false step on a horrible path in the wrong direction, & she knew this, & dreamed beyond! To send away, to cage, the suffering, old, & sick in any society is a crime against Mother Nature no matter what the excuses or how pretty the packaged institution is presented! [Z] Did not foresee the discussion would provoke such indepth and rich responses. It feels that we are getting close to the bottom of the matter that has not been brought up for so long, not in my life time. Profound interactions that make us aware of the aspects of how our thinking and living can be based on the kind of values we hold. I treat each and all of you in the hand of our goddesses. Anne Wilkerson Allen: I think the Mother always moves us back toward compassion. Whether we have a sense of deity or not, we can all understand contextually how she was used and that her “beliefs” left her with such poverty of spirit that her entire life is under the microscope. I wonder, will the media ask what the Church has done with all their Billions or simply focus on a dead nun indoctrinated by the system? Diane Horton: No, I am sorry. [C], that is an incredible rationalization of Mother Teresa’s actions. Unbelievable actually. For you to justify her not using the extraordinary amount of money sent to her by saying that she chose to use these horrible deaths to bring attention to the sick and the dying and evoke compassion in people – that is the most megalomaniac position possible! Did she assume the role of God then?? That is outrageous! To think that she had the means to relieve these poor people’s sufferings and chose not to in order to USE them is even more heinous to me! I cannot wrap my head around how you think that is a good thing. She already HAD evoked compassion for these people. That’s why the money poured in! And all the “pretending” and lying you said she did for the greater good? NO. Compassion and empathy are a basic human response to suffering. “She sacrificed these nonpeaceful deaths” REALLY?! She had no right. And she was wrong. I can see no lofty ideal she was displaying there. Diane Horton: Forgive, me. I could not let what was said there lie. I won’t say anymore. Everyone has their own perspective. And each perspective together makes the whole. Blessed Be. [C]: On this […]

(Video) Autumn Equinox/Mabon Poetry by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

The Autumnal Equinox occurs each year in the range of March 20-23 in the Southern Hemisphere, and in the range of September 20 -23 in the Northern Hemisphere. Autumn Equinox is a point of sacred balance: it is the point of balance in the dark part of Earth’s annual cycle. Sun is equidistant between North and South as it was/is at Spring Equinox, but in this dark phase of the cycle, the trend is toward increasing dark. Henceforth the dark part of the day will exceed the light part: thus it is a Moment of certain descent … and a sacred Moment for feeling and contemplating the grief and power of loss, for ceremoniously joining personal and collective grief and loss with the larger Self in whom we are. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcZflKLkvP8 Below is the text of the video. It is based on the traditional poetry for PaGaian Autumn Equinox/Mabon ceremony[i]. This is the Moment of the Autumnal Equinox in our Hemisphere – the moment of balance of light and dark in the dark part of the cycle. The light and dark parts of the day in the South and in the North of our planet, are of equal length at this time. We feel for the balance in this moment – Earth as She is poised in relationship with the Sun … breathing in the light, swelling with it, letting our breath go to the dark, staying with it. In our part of Earth, the balance is tipping into the dark. We remember the coolness of it. This is the time when we give thanks for our harvests – all that we have gained. And we remember too the sorrows, losses involved. The story of Old tells us that Persephone, Beloved Daughter, is given the wheat from Her Mother – the Mystery, knowledge of life and death. She receives it graciously. But she sets forth into the darkness – both Mother and Daughter grieve that it is so. Demeter, the Mother, says: “You are offered the wheat in every moment … I let you go as Child, most loved of Mine: you descend to Wisdom, to Sovereignty. You will return as Mother, co-Creator with me. You are the Seed in the Fruit, becoming the Fruit in the Seed. Inner Wisdom guides your path.” We give thanks for our harvests – our lives they are blessed. We are Daughters and Sons of the Mother. Yet we take our Wisdom and all that we have gained, and remember the sorrows – the losses involved. We remember the grief of the Mother, of mothers and lovers everywhere, our grief. Persephone descends. The Beloved One is lost. Persephone goes forth into the darkness to become Queen of that world. She tends the sorrows. The Seed represents our Persephones, who tends the sorrows – we are the Persephones, who may tend the sorrows. We go out into the night with Her and plant our seeds. Persephone blesses us with her fertile promise: “You have waxed into the fullness of life, And waned into darkness; May you be renewed in tranquility and wisdom[ii].” These represent our hope. The Seed of life never fades away. She is always present. Blessed be the Mother of all life. Blessed be the life that comes from Her and returns to Her. We tie red threads on each other: we participate in the Vision of the Seed – of the continuity of Life, that continues beneath the visible. The Mother knowledge grows within us. Our hope is in the Sacred Balance of the Cosmos – the Thread of Life, the Seed that never fades away: it is the Balance of Grief and Joy, the Care that we may feel in our Hearts. NOTES: [i] Glenys Livingstone, PaGaian Cosmology, p. 239-247. [ii] Charlene Spretrnak, Lost Goddesses of Early Greece, p. 116. REFERENCES: Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005. Spretnak, Charlene. Lost Goddesses of Early Greece: a Collection of Pre-Hellenic Myths. Boston: Beacon Press, 1992/1978.
A PaGaian Wheel of the Year and Her Creativity by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

This essay is an excerpt from Chapter 2 of the author’s new book A Poiesis of the Creative Cosmos: Celebrating Her within PaGaian Sacred Ceremony. for larger image see: https://pagaian.org/pagaian-wheel-of-the-year/ Essentially a PaGaian Wheel of the Year celebrates Cosmogenesis – the unfolding of the Cosmos, none of which is separate from the unfolding of each unique place/region, and each unique being. This creativity of Cosmogenesis is celebrated through Earth-Sun relationship as it may be expressed and experienced within any region of our Planet. PaGaian ceremony expresses this with Triple Goddess Poetry understood to be metaphor for the creative dynamics unfolding the Cosmos. At the heart of the Earth-Sun relationship is the dance of light and dark, the waxing and waning of both these qualities, as Earth orbits around our Mother Sun. This dance, which results in the manifestation of form and its dissolution (as expressed in the seasons), happens because of Earth’s tilt in relationship with Sun: because this effects the intensity of regional receptivity to Sun’s energy over the period of the yearly orbit. This tilt was something that happened in the evolution of our planet in its earliest of days – some four and a half billion years ago,[i] and then stabilised over time: and the climatic zones were further formed when Antarctica separated from Australia and South America, giving birth to the Antarctica Circumpolar Current, changing the circulation of water around all the continents … just some thirty million years ago.[ii] Within the period since then, which also saw the advent of the earliest humans, Earth has gone through many climatic changes. It is likely that throughout those changes, the dance of light and dark in both hemispheres of the planet … one always the opposite of the other – has been fairly stable and predictable. The resultant effect on flora and fauna regionally however has varied enormously depending on many other factors of Earth’s ever-changing ecology: She is an alive Planet who continues to move and re-shape Herself. She is Herself subject to the cosmic dynamics of creativity – the forming and the dissolving and the re-emerging. The earliest of humans must have received all this, ‘observed’ it in a very participatory way: that is, not as a Western industrialized or dualistic mind would think of ‘observation’ today, but as kin with the events – identifying with their own experience of coming into being and passing away. There is evidence (as of this writing) to suggest that humans have expressed awareness of, and response to, the phenomenon of coming into being and passing away, as early as one hundred thousand years ago: ritual burial sites of that age have been found,[iii] and more recently a site of ongoing ritual activity as old as seventy thousand years has been found.[iv] The ceremonial celebration of the phenomenon of seasons probably came much later, particularly perhaps when humans began to settle down. These ceremonial celebrations of seasons apparently continued to reflect the awesomeness of existence as well as the marking of transitions of Sun back and forth across the horizon, which became an important method of telling the time for planting and harvesting and the movement of pastoral animals. It seems that the resultant effect of the dance of light and dark on regional flora and fauna, has been fairly stable in recent millennia, the period during which many current Earth-based religious practices and expression arose. In our times, that is changing again. Humans have been, and are, a major part of bringing that change about. Ever since we migrated around the planet, humans have brought change, as any creature would: but humans have gained advantage and distinguished themselves by toolmaking, and increasingly domesticating/harnessing more of Earth’s powers – fire being perhaps the first, and this also aided our migration. In recent times this harnessing/appropriating of Earth’s powers became more intense and at the same time our numbers dramatically increased: and many of us filled with hubris, acting without consciousness or care of our relational context. We are currently living in times when our planet is tangibly and visibly transforming: the seasons themselves as we have known them for millennia – as anyone’s ancestors knew them – appear to be changing in most if not all regions of our Planet. Much predictable Poetry – sacred language – for expressing the quality of the Seasonal Moments will change, as regional flora changes, as the movement of animals and birds and sea creatures changes, as economies change.[v]In Earth’s long story regional seasonal manifestation has changed before, but not so dramatically since the advent of much current Poetic expression for these transitions, as mixed as they are with layers of metaphor: that is, with layers of mythic eras, cultures and economies. We may learn and understand the traditional significance of much of the Poetry, the ceremony and symbol – the art – through which we could relate and converse with our place, as our ancestors may have done, but it will continue to evolve as all language must. In PaGaian Cosmology I have adapted the Wheel as a way of celebrating the Female Metaphor and also as a way of celebrating Cosmogenesis, the Creativity that is present really/actually in every moment, but for which the Seasonal Moments provide a pattern/Poetry over the period of a year – in time and place. The pattern that I unfold is a way in which the three different phases/characteristics interplay. In fact, the way in which they interplay seems infinite, the way they inter-relate is deeply complex. I think it is possible to find many ways to celebrate them. There is nothing concrete about the chosen story/Poetry, nor about each of the scripts presented here, just as there is nothing concrete about the Place of Being – it (She) is always relational, a Dynamic Interchange. Whilst being grounded in the “Real,” the Poetry chosen for expression is therefore at the same time, a potentially infinite expression, according to the heart and mind of the storyteller. NOTES: [i] See Appendix C, *(6), Glenys Livingstone, A Poiesis of the Creative …
(Prose) Halcyon for the Season by Deanne Quarrie

A bird for this season is the Kingfisher, also known as the Halcyon. The Kingfisher is associated in Greek myth with the Winter Solstice. There were fourteen “halcyon days” in every year, seven of which fell before the winter solstice, seven after; peaceful days when the sea was smooth as a pond and the hen-halcyon built a floating nest and hatched out her young. She also had another habit, that of carrying her dead mate on her back over the sea and mourning him with a plaintive cry. Pliny reported that the halcyon was rarely seen and then only at the winter and summer solstices and at the setting of the Pleiades. She was therefore, a manifestation of the Moon-Goddess who was worshiped at the two solstices as the Goddess of Life in Death and Death in Life and, when the Pleiades set, she sent the sacred king his summons for death. Kingfishers are typically stocky, short-legged birds with large heads and large, heron-like beaks. They feed primarily on fish, hovering over the water or watching intently from perches and they plunge headlong into the water to catch their prey. Their name, Alcedinidae, stems from classical Greek mythology. Alcyone, Daughter of the Wind, was so distraught when her husband perished in a shipwreck that she threw herself into the sea. Both were then transformed into kingfishers and roamed the waves together. When they nested on the open sea, the winds remained calm and the weather balmy. Still another Alcyone, Queen of Sailing, was the mystical leader of the seven Pleiades. The heliacal rising of the Pleiades in May marked the beginning of the navigational year and their setting marked the end. Alcyone, as Sea Goddess protected sailors from rocks and rough weather. The bird, halcyon continued for centuries to be credited with the magical power of allaying storms. Shakespeare refers to this legend in this passage from Hamlet: Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time. Hamlet, I, i 157 When I was a young mother, and my children were little, we lived in a house that had a creek in the back yard. There were small trees along the far bank of this creek and every day, a kingfisher would sit in the branches overlooking the creek. Sometimes he sat there very quietly for a very long time. Suddenly he would dive from his perch straight into the creek. Every time he did he came out and up into the air with a fish. It gave me great pleasure to watch him from my kitchen window. I love birds. I love learning about their habits because it teaches me ways of being that are closer to nature. I love drawing birds as well. When I was a young and more able, I was an avid bird watcher, out with my friends hoping for a sight never seen before. I love the story of the kingfisher and her connection to the Halcyon Days of the Winter Solstice. It is for most of us the busiest time of year. Whether it is for the Solstice or Christmas (often both) we are in a frenzy to get things done, making sure everything is just right and perfect. I celebrate the Winter Solstice. As a priestess, my days right now are very busy creating ritual. It is at the Solstice that many passage rites are happening with the women I work with. And of course, I celebrate with my family with our magical Yule Log each year. But I try to honor those seven days before and the seven days after by trying to have the frantic moments before the Halcyon Days begin and then even when busy, hold the peace and calm of that beautiful smooth sea in my mind. Peace and love and joy surrounding the Winter Solstice make it perfect. May the Peace of a Halcyon Sea be yours in this Solstice Season. Do hold the image of that little kingfisher in mind! Meet Mago Contributor, Deanne Quarrie
(Prose & Photography) Equinox Reflection by Sara Wright

Photography by Sara Wright I gaze out my bedroom window and hear yet another golden apple hit the ground. The vines that hug the cabin and climb up the screens are heavy with unripe grapes and the light that is filtered through the trees in front of the brook is luminous – lime green tipped in gold – My too sensitive eyes are blessedly well protected by this canopy of late summer leaves. The maples on the hill are losing chlorophyll and are painting the hollow with splashes of bittersweet orange and red. The dead spruces by the brook will probably collapse this winter providing Black bears with even more precious ants and larvae to eat in early spring. I only hope that some bears will survive the fall slaughter to return to this black bear sanctuary; in particular two beloved young ones… Mushrooms abound, amanitas, boletes morels, puff balls, the latter two finding their way into my salads. The forest around my house is in an active state of becoming with downed limbs and sprouting fungi becoming next year’s soil. The forest floor smells so sweet that all I can imagine is laying myself down on a bed of mosses to sleep and dream. The garden looks as tired as I am; lily fronds droop, yellowing leaves betraying the season at hand. Bright green pods provide a startling contrast to fading scarlet bee balm. Wild asters are abundant and goldenrod covers the fields with a bright yellow garment. Every wild bush has sprays of berries. My crabapple trees are bowed, each twig heavy with winter fruit. Most of the birds have absconded to the fields that are ripe with the seeds of wild grasses. The mourning doves are an exception – they gather together each dawn waiting patiently for me to fill the feeder. In the evening I am serenaded by soft cooing. One chicken hawk hides in the pine, lying in wait for the unwary…Just a few hummingbirds remain…whirring wings and twittering alert me to continued presence as they settle into the cherry tree to sleep, slipping into a light torpor with these cool September nights… Spiders are spinning their egg cases, even as they prepare to die. I can still find toads hopping around the house during the warmest hours of the day. Although the grass is long I will not mow it for fear of killing these most precious and threatened of species. I am heavily invested in seeing these toads burrow in to see another spring. My little frogs sit on their lily pads seeking the warmth of a dimming afternoon sun. Soon they too will slumber below fallen leaves or mud. I am surrounded by such beauty, and so much harvest bounty that even though I am exhausted I take deep pleasure out of each passing day of this glorious month of September, the month of my birth. Unlike many folks, for me, moving into the dark of the year feels like a blessing. Another leave -taking is almost upon me, and I am having trouble letting go of this small oasis that I have tended with such care for more than thirty years… I don’t know what this winter will bring to my modest cabin whose foundation is crumbling under too much moisture and too many years of heavy snow. In the spring extensive excavation will begin. A new foundation must be poured and this work will destroy the gardens I have loved, the mossy grounds around the south end of the house that I have nurtured for so long. In this season of letting go I must find a way to lay down my fears, and release that which I am powerless to change. Somehow… I have no idea what I will return to except that I have made it clear that none of my beloved trees be harmed. I am grateful that Nature is mirroring back to me so poignantly that letting go is the way through: That this dying can provide a bedrock foundation for another spring birth. As a Daughter of the Earth I lean into ancient wisdom, praying that this exhausted mind and body will be able to follow suit. (Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.
(Essay) Conceiving, Imagining the New at Samhain by Glenys Livingstone Ph.D.

It is the Season of Samhain/Deep Autumn in the Southern Hemisphere at this time. In the PaGaian version of Samhain/Deep Autumn ceremony participants journey to the “Luminous World Egg” … a term taken from Starhawk in her book The Spiral Dance[i], where she also names that place as the “Shining Isle”, which is of course, the Seed of conception, a metaphor for the origins of all and/or the female egg: it is the place for rebirth. Artist: Bundeluk, Blue Mountains, Australia. The “luminous world egg” is a numinous place within, the MotherStar of conception: that is, a place of unfolding/becoming. The journey to this numinous place within requires first a journey back, through some of each one’s transformations, however each may wish to name those transformations at this time. The transformations for each and every being are infinite in their number, for there is “nothing we have not been” as has been told by Celts and others of Old, and also by Western science in the evolutionary story (a story told so well by evolutionary biologist Elisabet Sahtouris, particularly in her video Journey of a Silica Atom.) Ceremonial participants may choose selves from biological, present historical self, or may choose selves from the mythic with whom they feel connection; from any lineage – biological or otherwise. Selves may also be chosen from Gaia’s evolutionary story – earlier creatures, winged or scaled ones … with whom one wishes to identify at this time. Each participant is praised for their “becoming” for each self they share. When all have completed these journeys/stories of transformation, the circle is lauded dramatically by the celebrant for their courage to transform; and she likens them all to Gaia Herself who has made such transitions for eons. The celebrant awards each with a gingerbread snake, “Gaian totems of life renewed”[ii]. gingerbread snakes Participants sit and consume these gingerbread snakes in three parts: (i) as all the “old shapes” of self that were named; and (ii) remembering the ancestors, those whose lives have been harvested, whose lives have fed our own, remembering that we too are the ancestors, that we will be consumed; and (iii) remembering and consuming the stories of our world that they desire to change, the stories that fire their wrath or sympathy: in the consuming, absorbing them (as we do), each may transform them by thoughts and actions – “in our own bodyminds”. When all that is consumed “wasting no part”, it is said that “we are then free to radiate whatever we conceive”, to “exclaim the strongest natural fibre known” – our creative selves, “into such art, such architecture, as can house a world made sacred” by our building[iii]. This “natural fibre” is a reference to the spider’s thread from within her own body, with which she weaves her web, her home; and Spider has frequently been felt in indigenous cultures around the globe as Weaver and Creator of the Cosmos. Spider the Creatrix, North America, C. 1300 C.E., Hallie Iglehart Austen, The Heart of the Goddess, p.13 In the ceremony, participants linked with a thread that they weave around the circle, may sail together for a new world “across the vast sunless sea between endings and beginnings, across the Womb of magic and transformation, to the “Not-Yet” who beckons”[iv]: to the Luminous World Egg whereupon the new may be conceived and dreamed up. Samhain/Deep Autumn ceremony is an excellent place for co-creating ourselves, for imaginingthe More that we may become, and wish to become. This is where creation and co-creation happens … in the Womb of Space[v], in which we are immersed – at all times: and Samhain is a good season for feeling it. References: Livingstone, Glenys. PaGaian Cosmology: Re-inventing Earth-based Goddess Religion. NE: iUniverse, 2005 Sahtouris, Elisabet. Earthdance: Living Systems in Evolution. Lincoln NE:iUniversity Press, 2000. Starhawk, The Spiral Dance: A Rebirth of the Ancient Religion of the Great Goddess. NY: Harper and Row, 1999. Swimme, Brian. The Earth’s Imagination.DVD series 1998. NOTES: [i]p.210 [ii]a version of this Samhain script is offered in Chapter 7 PaGaian Cosmology [iii]These quoted phrases are from Robin Morgan, “The Network of the Imaginary Mother”, in Lady of the Beasts, p.84. This poem is a core inspiration of the ceremony. [iv]“Not-Yet” is a term used by Brian Swimme, The Earth’s Imagination, video 8 “The Surprise of Cosmogenesis”. [v]note that creation does not happen at the point of some god’s index finger, as imagined in the Sistine Chapel – what a takeover that is!
(Art & Poem) Candelmas/Imbolc by Sudie Rakusin & Annie Finch

IMBOLC DANCE From the east she has gathered like wishes. She has woven a night into dawn. We are quickening ivy. We grow where her warmth melts out over the ice. Now spiral south bends into flame to push the morning over doors. The light swings wide, green with the pulse of seasons, and we let her in We are quickening ivy. We grow The light swings wide, green with the pulse till the west is rocked by darkness pulled from where the fire rises. Shortened time’s reflecting water rakes her through the thickened cold. Hands cover north smooth with emptiness, stinging the mill of night’s hours. Wait with me. See, she comes circling over the listening snow to us. Shortened time’s reflecting water Wait with me. See, she comes circling From Calendars (Tupelo Press, 2003) Art is included in Celebrating Seasons of the Goddess (Mago Books, 2017). (Meet Mago Contributor) Sudie Rakusin (Meet Mago Contributor) Annie Finch

(Tribute) In Loving Memory of Lydia Ruyle (1935-2016) by Mago Circle Members

We posthumously honor Lydia Ruyle (August 5, 1935-March 26, 2016) as Patron of Goddess Feminism, Activism, and Spirituality. Mago Circle Members on June 11, 2016. Glenys Livingstone I feel blessed to have known Lydia and to have been in occasional personal communication with her for several years … initially via the Goddess Scholars list. Lydia sent me great information of some of her journeys, was always encouraging and generously supported my CD crowdfunding project in 2015. I feel honoured to have carried her Goddess banners to Australia in 2014.
(Photo Essay 3) ‘Gaeyang Halmi, the Sea Goddess of Korea’ by Helen Hwang

Part III: Archaeology Bespeaks What Ideological Hetero-sexuality Can’t Do Our story-tellers informed us that Gaeyang Halmi is venerated and celebrated on January 14th annually on the lunar calendar. There are two separate rituals performed on that day. Villagers, both men and women, offer their ritual ceremony in the morning in Confucian style. The officiant must preserve the purification ritual, confining oneself to home to avoid ominous affairs for a week prior to the ceremony. After the ceremony of the villagers, Mudang groups come from outside the town and offer their Shaman rituals. A cleavage between two groups is still freshly detected in their narratives. While villagers conform to the Confucian style rituals with a despising but curious eye for the female-centered Shaman rituals, Mudangs are much more powerful in their capacities to command people, spirits, and materials. The Shamanic ritual celebration is fairly well-known domestically as well as overseas to the Chinese and the Japanese, according to our lore transmitters. People from China and Japan come to join the Mudang rituals, a vestige of the intercultural celebration that may have originated in ancient times, a point to be elaborated later. What caught my attention was the fact that the ritual celebration is known as the Ritual of Yongwang (the Dragon King) not the Ritual of Gaeyang Halmi. Our two narrators, Mr. Jeong Dong-Uk and Ms. Jeong Si-Geum, brother and sister, testified contradictorily vis-à-vis the Dragon King. Mr. Jeong mentioned that Gaeyang Halmi is the wife of Dragon King,[i] whereas Ms. Jeong spoke of Gaeyang Halmi as a solo deity without spouse. Ms. Jeong sternly said, “She was alone [without spouse]. She had eight daughters.” “It is said that there used to be a house wherein Gaeyang Halmi and her eight daughters lived together. I saw the cooking pots and household things in the ruin,” added Ms. Jeong. [Interestingly, the motif that she saw the cooking pots and other kitchen items in the ruin reminded me of other Mago folk stories from other regions. People seem to take such artifacts as pots and household things discovered in the ruin as an indication that the myth of Mago Halmi who is told to have lived in the place is plausible.] The topos of “the dragon king” was likely added later on to comply with Confucian ideology. In fact, none of our narrators mentioned the dragon king as the main deity of the Suseong Shrine. The fact that it is called the ritual of the dragon king suggests another layer of erosion/castration/dethronement done to the supreme divinity of Gaeyang Halmi.
(Essay 2) The Magoist Calendar: Mago Time inscribed in Sonic Numerology by Helen Hye-Sook Hwang

[Author’s Note: This is my latest research that has led me to restore the 13-month, 28-day Mago Calendar, which will be included at the end of its sequels. See Mago Almanac: 13 Month 28 Day Calendar (Book A), published in 2017.] CALENDARICS AND THE MAGOIST COSMOGONY Calendar is the harmonic numerological chart that indicates specifics of the terrestrial time/space relative to the extrasolar universe. As a cosmic almanac of our terrestrial home, calendar teaches the human world to do the right thing at the right timing, determined by the song/dance of the universe. We humans, part of the calendar, are the guardian of the calendar. Calendar is not and should not be an arbitrary arrangement invented to serve the purpose of a particular group of people, the Budoji says. It is